Six to go

Weeks, that is. Another way of thinking about it is that I see each class 12 more times. Eleven, actually, as the last two days I won't hold classes but will just be finalizing grades. I'm not sure why that seems easier--usually a larger number seems like more to endure--but seeing the kids just 11 more times seems incredibly fast. Yikes, we have a lot to cover in 11 meetings! That in itself makes the time seem much more rapid.

I don't have much to say for the week-end round-up here. The 101 class continues to fall apart (though I think the seven students who are left might have done some moderately productive work); the 102s are staggering toward the finish, and at least the remaining students know enough now to start begging me for help--often too late for me to provide much, but I'll do what I can when they ask. The stack of stuff to be marked by end of next week is not horrific (though I know I'll still put it off until the last possible second and then be tearing my hair out to get it done: that's just my M.O., and I try to accept the fact). I have typed up a revised schedule of assignments for 101, as bumping essay 2 version 1 meant bumping a bunch of other stuff, and the students were getting massively confused as I tried to explain. That will come in next week, along with the second paper from the poetry class, so there is a nice staggered effect to the assignments.

I have to do some thinking about the final project assignment for 101. This semester, I want to include use of one of the required readings, partly as a plagiarism check (I've gotten gun-shy about that) but more as a way of showing connections between what they read and the wider world. I've been feeling lately that students often do not see the way in which their readings in class relate to anything outside of class, and I think that it's important for them to understand that academic material is pertinent to their lives--not just because having a degree helps them find better jobs but because knowing more about the world gives them a richer experience of the it. That's a bit of a tough sell, but I have been sporadically (even spasmodically) working to find ways to make it happen.

I've also ordered from Amazon books I may use for next semester's American short story class. Book order time is here, and I haven't found time to compare style guides, consider lit readers, blah blah.

The election for departmental positions--including P&B--is going on this week and next. I'm worried a bit about P&B: I may not get re-elected, which would be disappointing, despite the relief in terms of time commitment (largely because of the kick to my monumental ego and competitive nature--which I try to pretend I don't have but which, in fact, is quite strong). However, if I do get re-elected, I'm hoping the committee chemistry will fly as well as it does at the moment. I'm suspecting there will be at least one run-off vote: there are a lot of us going up for three positions, and many strong candidates who will have significant following among the faculty. It will be interesting to see what comes of that.

Speaking of P&B, I observed a much-liked colleague today as she taught Children's Literature--and she did a great job. Very interesting lesson, and I kept wanting to jump in with contributions, to participate in the class activities. Part of the lesson was about lullabyes, so I kept wanting to offer to sing the ones I know. (Thank you, Momma!) When the discussion shifted to "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," she asked if anyone would sing it. Resounding silence from the students. She said she wouldn't sing it herself. She asked me if I would--so I did. Not as well as I'd have liked, but well enough for the lesson: this was not a performance, after all, merely a demonstration for pedagogic purposes. The actress in me still craves an audience, apparently. And yes, that is part of why I teach. I joke about it with Mark, my actor friend: I still do my eight shows a week; I just do them for a captive audience that cannot leave at intermission.

Following another random train of thought: I talked to a student in 102 today. This kid is very bright, potentially a very impressive student, and his work has been quarter-assed at best to date. I took him outside and told him that if he had been turning in the kind of work I knew he was capable of, and turning it in on time, he'd be getting at least a solid B+ if not an A. As it stands, he's going to be challenged to pass. I told him it's breaking my heart to see him doing so poorly when I can tell he's got so much potential. I think that got to him: he seemed flattered, even touched that I should care. (He apologized to me. Sweet.) I just hope he pulls himself together now and for the rest of the term. He still won't get the grade he could have, but I might be able to pass him. I'm also very disappointed to report that the student I offered an incomplete to has apparently dropped the ball, as she was not in class with her paper today. (The student in the other 102 with whom I made the same arrangement already bailed: she asked for a withdrawal earlier this week. Shame, really.) Another of the better, more hard-working students was also AWOL today--and no e-mail from either one about late submission. I worry.

By the way, the young man from that class who plagiarized e-mailed today, desperate for help on the paper--the one due, yes, today. He wrote 2 1/2 hours before class, which might be considered a trifle late, but he had the good grace to admit that fact and to be honest with me about how desperate he is. The rather ironic bit, however, is that in class he tried to pretend he didn't know the paper was due, when his own e-mail demonstrated he knew damned well it was. He may have been trying to save face in front of the other students, but I need to speak to this kid about lying. Not that I'll change his behavior: he's making it abundantly clear that his automatic response to a difficult spot is to lie. But never mind my class: he's going to get himself into a truly nasty situation someday if he doesn't man up and start taking the lumps that come with honesty. In fact, I intend to point out to him that his behavior is not manly--because I believe he's got a lot invested in his masculine pride. It's the only way I can think to get through to him. However, in his e-mail, he did admit (again) to plagiarizing and apologized again for it. Good for him. But we'll see what happens from here.

And now I'm going to put my sagging little self into the car, drive to one of my favorite restaurants, have a nice little dinner, go home, and try to unwind. Tired as I am, I'm still pretty jacked up from the week, so it may take some time to let go.